Cry To Me
by GoingVintage
Summary: Rachel turns to Puck after fighting with Finn again. Just because he's used to it doesn't mean it's easy. Inspired by Solomon Burke's song, "Cry to Me." For fictable prompt# 25 - hunger. ONESHOT.


**A/N: **This one-shot is part of the fictable that I'm doing over on LiveJournal and it's for prompt# 25 - hunger.

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A cheap CGI crocodile had just bitten the head off of some stupid bitch in a bikini (nice rack, though) when Puck thought he heard a knock. He pushed himself up slightly and stared at his apartment door, straining to hear. When no other noise followed, he stretched back out, putting his arm back behind his head and resumed mindlessly staring at the television. As the chick's body spurted blood out onto the soft Hawaiian ground, Puck heard the noise again. This time, it was insistent. Pushing himself up off his worn couch, he padded through the dark living room of his small apartment and opened the door. The sound of the rain splattering outside against the pavement masked the sound of the sobs coming from the girl in front of him but did very little to hide the tears. Without saying a word, Puck pushed the door open wider and she slipped inside. He softly closed the door and then ran his fingers absentmindedly across his bare chest as he watched a rain-soaked Rachel drop down onto his couch. He didn't say a word but instead, disappeared into his bedroom. Coming out seconds later, he handed her a pair of his shorts and a t-shirt and nodded his head toward the bathroom. Rachel gave him a half-smiled and then she disappeared behind the closed door.

While she was changing, Puck stared at the television for a second longer and then flipped it off. Without the blaring of the TV, he could hear the rain pound against the pavement outside the door of his small apartment. He could only imagine the fight that sent her his way this time. It was probably stupid and pointless, as were all their fights. All he knew was they were becoming frequent and each one seemed to be more intense and slightly more meaningless than the last.

Rachel stepped outside his bathroom and automatically headed toward the closet in the hallway that concealed his small, stackable washer and dryer. Tossing her jeans, shirt, bra, and underwear inside, she hit the "on" button and the apartment was filled with the gentle hum of the dryer.

She quietly walked back into the living room and sat down a foot away from Puck on the couch. The smell of her perfume, still clinging to her damp skin, wafted his way and he found himself sucking in a breath. He knew the smell would linger long after she left and couldn't help but think bitterly that it was the only thing she ever left at his place. He saw her glance at his chest out of the corner of his eye and felt his pants become slightly more constricting. When her tongue darted out and whetted her lips, he nearly groaned.

Desperate to distract himself from the burn building in his gut, he dove in. "So what happened?" His voice cut through the silence and Rachel jumped, her eyes shifting away from him and down to her thigh where her finger slid over the hem of his baggy shorts as she gulped.

"He just got mad again. Jealous of the new male lead in Glee Club. I reminded him that since you and he graduated last year, we'd have new people join. But our newest member is also a senior and just transferred in. And he's phenomenal. We've been practicing a lot after school lately and Finn just…he thinks there's something going on between us." Rachel's eyes turned to Puck and they traveled over his defined abdomen muscles before sliding up to lock his gaze. He swallowed and tried to push away the look he knew was there but based on the way her breath quickened slightly, he knew she'd already seen it.

"Is there?" Puck bit out through gritted teeth. Even though the words were out there, he didn't really want her to answer. Her words could send him into a rage just as quickly as the mere thought of her cheating had done to Finn. The only difference was that he wasn't allowed to lose his cool in front of her. The damage would be irreversible.

"Of course not," Rachel answered quickly. "I…It's not like that," she added.

Puck's body slumped into the couch and he softly shook his head. Of course it wasn't. That's not the kind of girl she was. He tried to ignore the acrid taste that singed the back of his throat but he knew it was useless. It was his near-constant companion on the nights she showed up at his house, out-of-sorts over her latest argument with Finn, and ready to cry her troubles out to him.

"Want something to drink?" Puck asked, partly to break the tension coursing through him and partly because his mouth had turned to fucking sand the second he'd seen her standing at his door.

Rachel nodded and Puck stood up and headed into the kitchen to grab them some sodas. He let out a sad laugh as he thought about how, a few months ago, his apartment had been his escape from all that bullshit. Just after high school graduation, Puck had gotten a full-time job, enrolled in OSU-Lima part-time, and moved into the shitty apartment on the outskirts of Lima that he now called home. The rent was cheap and living alone was the best fucking decision of his life. But the one thing he hadn't planned on when he moved was that Rachel would use his apartment as an escape. They were friends, sure. They'd been friends for a while. But it seemed like since he'd moved out on his own, she turned to him more than anyone else. At first, it hadn't bothered him. He could usually calm her down, get her to smile, and then send her back into the arms of her boyfriend.

But now… Puck popped the top off his Coke and took a long swig, his eyes on the wet hair of the girl sitting on his couch. But now… "Fucking torture" were the only two words that came to mind. Desire and frustration with no real outlet seemed to be his roommates once Rachel made an appearance.

Stepping back into the room, Puck tossed her a can and she meekly opened it and took a giant slurping slip. He ignored the way her tongue shot out to lick up a stray drop of the caramel-colored liquid and instead focused on blinds, watching lightning dance between the plastic slats.

"So what are you going to do now?" he asked, even though he already knew. She'd do the same thing she always did. She'd go back.

Rachel shrugged and took another sip. "Probably just… I don't know."

"You can stay here tonight," Puck offered. "You know he's going to head straight for your house when he comes to his senses. And he _will_ come to his senses."

Rachel shook her head. "I'm not ready to talk to him yet."

Puck nodded and the two sank back into silence, the tumble of the dryer mixing with the pelting of the rain against the windows.

"I called my dads and told them that I was going to Quinn's and not to tell him," she offered. Puck wondered why she wasn't honest…why she didn't tell them that she was at his place again. The words danced on the end of his tongue but he swallowed them because the answer may not be something he wanted to hear. Or it could be the exact thing he needed to hear and then it would start an epic snowball of shit that he wasn't sure she was prepared to deal with. So he didn't ask.

A rumble of thunder echoed through the apartment and Rachel jumped. Her arm brushed against his bare side and Puck inhaled sharply, his chest tight. The need to fucking explode lit up his blood and he knew he needed to get away.

Mumbling something to her about getting a blanket, he disappeared into his bedroom. Once inside, he took three deep breaths and threw a shirt on over his bare chest. Then he opened his closet, jerked a spare pillow and blanket down from the top shelf, and walked back into the living room where he dropped them next to Rachel. She looked up at him, her eyes traveling over his now-covered chest and he thought, just for a second, that he saw disappointment in her eyes.

"I'll take the phone off the hook," Puck offered, "in case he tries to call. And my cell's on vibrate so I won't hear it."

"He won't think I'm here," Rachel said quickly.

"Of course not," Puck didn't care that the words were laced with resentment. Why would he? Why would Finn even imagine that his girlfriend would turn to his best friend every time he fucked up again? Puck could be trusted with Finn's girlfriend the second time around, right?

"I'm going to bed," Puck said quietly. Rachel nodded but didn't look at him. "Don't leave first thing in the morning." He wondered why the fuck he'd just added that second part and worked to recover fast. "Maybe we'll go to breakfast in the morning and figure out how you can handle him this time."

"Okay, Noah," Rachel nodded. Puck turned to step away but Rachel reached out, grabbing his hand and squeezing it between her fingers. "Thank you. I appreciate what a wonderful friend you are."

"No problem," he said quickly, jerking his hand away a little too fast. Rachel looked slightly wounded but then turned and began to spread the blanket out over the couch.

"Night," he offered.

"Goodnight," she answered, not turning around to look at him.

Without a glance behind him, Puck bolted toward his bedroom and, once inside, spun the lock. Walking backward toward the bed, he pushed his pants down and sank onto the mattress as he stared at the shiny metal lock that glinted in the dim light. Jerking his shirt over his head, he wondered if he'd locked the door to keep himself from going back out there - or to stop her from coming in. The former was a very possible option when he felt as tense and as pissed off and as..._fuck_...as hungry as he was. And the latter...maybe it was wishful thinking but he felt like it _could_ happen. Except that, with the way things were, it _shouldn't _happen.

Puck slid the covers back and climbed beneath them, flipping out the light. In the darkness, he stared through the door and swore because he could still smell her goddamn perfume. Sometimes being such a good fucking friend was pure hell.


End file.
